


The Lamb on the Fishhook

by deathhaul



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Abigail is a lesbian because i say so, F/F, First Kiss, i make myself sad because i say so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:34:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26155060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathhaul/pseuds/deathhaul
Summary: "Abigail had sobbed herself to sleep the night after she kissed Marissa for the first time. All the other girls tasted bitter, she now knew Marissa would taste sweet. Just like her lips, her tongue, and her lip gloss." / Abigail had loved Marissa, and Marissa had loved her.
Relationships: Abigail Hobbs/Marissa Schurr
Comments: 8
Kudos: 51





	The Lamb on the Fishhook

“Hello, I’m Abigail.”

“Marissa.” Abigail smiles, the bait is taken. The cycle starts again.

* * *

Abigail had sobbed herself to sleep the night after she kissed Marissa for the first time. All the other girls tasted bitter, she now knew Marissa would taste sweet. Just like her lips, her tongue, and her lip gloss. 

She kissed her before her neck was ever kissed by her dads knife, before her life was autopsied for the public. Before she knew Will Graham or Hannibal Lecter. She kissed her deep in the woods behind her home, a home that wasn’t home. Even though her dad was at work they kept walking until her house was out of view, as if he would still see them. Maybe it would give him another reason to kill her, beyond love. That’s what she hoped it was, that’s what everyone explained it as. 

Abigail loved Marissa, and she didn’t want to kill her. She didn’t want any of them to die, but for the first time she thought she would lie on the altar herself, to save the lamb. Marissa hated nature, complained about the smell and the mud on her boots. And Abigail just smiled, she liked feeling normal. 

She always thought the other girls she lured were pretty, but they were all too similar to her. Abigail wrote off her attraction, she viewed them pretty the way she viewed her reflection as pretty. That is, when she wasn't disgusted by herself in the mirror. Marissa was rougher than she was, and maybe even prettier. 

When their classmates harassed Abigail for whatever they deemed a good enough reason that day, Marissa would always be there, glaring daggers and hurling vulgar insults that Abigail would never dare whisper. Marissa wasn’t quiet like the other girls, she didn’t always say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’, she smoked, and put on makeup that would make Abigail’s dad yell at her. She was rebellious, maybe she could rebel against death. The death Abigail stamped her with.

She was different enough, maybe the fishing line would snap. Maybe she wouldn’t be reeled in for dinner.

The two sat in the woods, orange and yellow glowed around them. Abigail’s chest ached as she looked at her, ached harder than when she looked at the other girls. 

“Are you just going to stare?” Marissa had asked. “Or are you going to do something?”

Abigail heard other girls at school call Marissa a word she never heard before. It was laced with malicious and hatred, and it caused Marissa to shove a girl face first into the lockers, repeatedly. 

“Would,” Abigail peeled a leaf off her boot to avoid her intense eyes. “You want me to do something?”

“You’re ridiculous.” Marissa claimed with a laugh. She grabbed Abigail by the back of her head and pulled her close, but not enough. “I do.” She breathed, Abigail could smell her perfume and hair products. Lavender and lilac. She imagined how they would cling to her dad after he murders her. Imagined how it would make her vomit. 

And Abigail kissed her, and kissed her, and kissed her. She hadn’t felt that human in a long time, that alive. She had laughed against her lips, shaking like the leaves in the soft fall breeze. She was terrified, it felt good to be scared about something so normal. 

She stuffed her smile inside herself when her dad came home, making sure Marissa left beforehand. She swallowed her happiness down with whatever girl she was eating, feeling bile rise in her throat when she heard Marissa’s laugh in her head. 

Abigail always knew what she was eating, her mom didn’t. Eating the girls made sense, she could rationalize it. But she vomited her meal up that night. Claiming period issues to her dad when he asked, he immediately left her alone after that. 

And Abigail sobbed, and sobbed, and sobbed while thinking about Marissa. As much as she wanted to convince herself Marissa was tough, she could fight back, maybe Abigail could fight back for her. Abigail knew her dad wouldn't let her get away. She had picked up her phone, dialing 911, and turned off her phone. And Abigail sobbed harder, she could still taste her peach lip gloss.

And then her neck was slit, and her father was shot ten times. And an FBI officer’s hand was on her neck wound, and then another set of hands. Everything was blurry and correct. And wrong. Her dad didn’t get to honor her; it would just be murder. He would have hated that. 

Abigail stared down at the boxes before her, her life so neatly packed away. The sound of the door opening echoed in the house. 

Marissa had said her name, and her heart skipped.

They stood outside the house and Abigail stared at her, choking back tears. She was alive, he was gone, she was safe. Abigail glows inside with Marissa standing beside her, the orange and yellow enwrap them once again. 

Marissa threw the stone at the man Abigail would later gut in her living room, and was dragged home by her angry mom. Marissa had protected her and Abigail, in a way, had protected her too. 

That’s what she thought. 

Something wet drips onto her head. Abigail, confused, reaches to wipe it away. It’s blood, she knows it too well. She looks up to see blood coming through the upstairs floorboards. An anxiety she hasn’t felt since that morning in her kitchen bleeds back to her. Will goes up the stairs first. She picks her fingernails, impatient. 

She goes up the stairs as well. Just as he is lifting up the head of the girl impaled on the antlers, a girl just like her. 

“Marissa!” She yells, shock and horror wash over her as she gasps for breaths. Abigail can’t remember how she left the cabin, she next remembers Alana talking to her by a car. She couldn’t hear any of her soft, kind words. 

_It’s my fault_ , is all she can think. Over and over. _All my fault_. It didn’t matter that her dad sat in the morgue, with ten bullet holes, and no pulse. She was still alive and the lure will always pull it’s dinner home. Even with her dad gone, Marissa had died. She wasn’t used or honored; it was just murder. 

Just like she should have been.

If only her dad had cut deeper. If only Will was a little slower, if only he didn’t bring a doctor. She would have bled out next to her dad. And Marissa would be breathing. 

It didn’t matter that her dad was dead, the hook had made contact with Marissa. She had doomed her from the first ‘hello’.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked this short and sad little Abigail x Marissa fic. The idea of Abigail loving Marissa has haunted me so, I give you this.


End file.
